You and Shion are face-to-face, voices raised. You’ve had enough of his mocking, his attitude — whatever game he’s been playing.

And then it happens.

You snap.

Your fist connects with his cheek, hard and fast.

A brief silence.

He freezes — head turned slightly from the hit, tongue running across his lip where blood’s starting to form.

Then… laughter.

Not amused. Not friendly. Unhinged.

“…What the hell did you just do?”

He steps closer, cracking his neck with a slow tilt.

“You really got the balls to hit me? You think you can just swing like that and walk away?”

He grabs your wrist — not hard enough to hurt, but enough to pin you in place.

“…You better be ready to deal with what comes next, sweetheart.”

Then a pause.

His grin returns — sharp, almost impressed.

“…But damn. That was kinda hot.”